The Golden Hand

From Mattawa to Parry Sound
There’s nothing in a soul
To bring his spirit down
Until he dreams of a golden hand
And the lust that she awoke
In this traveling man
He courted her with compliments
Until promising to love until death did them apart
He took his time to seal her hand
And stole his widow’s worth
And laid her body under the land

He got a corpse inside his head
(sold his soul, sold his soul)
He’s gone mad he’s good as dead
(sold his soul, sold his soul)
He got a corpse inside his head
(sold his soul, sold his soul)
Woah now no, he sold his soul

Now he sleeps without a sound
Not a soul suspects him in the foreign town
But his blood runs cold when the sun has set
And the curtains take the shape
Of her dark silhouette

He got a corpse inside his head
(sold his soul, sold his soul)
He’s gone mad he’s good as dead
(sold his soul, sold his soul)
He got a corpse inside his head
(sold his soul, sold his soul)
Woah now no, he sold his soul

He got a corpse inside his head
(sold his soul, sold his soul)
He’s gone mad he’s good as dead
(sold his soul, sold his soul)
He got a corpse inside his head
(sold his soul, sold his soul)
Woah now no, he sold his soul